


Tipsy

by digitalgoddess



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition Smut Pieces [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sex, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digitalgoddess/pseuds/digitalgoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Second piece posted! Don't forget, all of these are posted on my tumblr: www.digital-goddess.tumblr.com</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tipsy

**Author's Note:**

> Second piece posted! Don't forget, all of these are posted on my tumblr: www.digital-goddess.tumblr.com

The song he heard as he crossed the training field filled his ears. Her song. He stopped dead as he watched Cassandra cross her arms at him, expecting him for their meet up about his lyrium withdrawals. He couldn’t. A blush crossed his cheeks and he pointed at the tavern that was set up, cocking his head to the side.

Cassandra tossed her hands up in the air and spun, making her way back inside the forge. Why was her song - the song she…sang…to him being cried out in a drunken stupor?

He made his way towards the tavern, spying into one of the windows when he felt a presence behind him. Spinning on his heels, he let out a breath, the grip on the hilt of his sword tight. “Cole, you really shouldn’t -“

"She was asked to sing. She only knows one song. Others are reserved for death. It's bright like the sparks she makes in you."

Cullen gulped down and backed away from the…spirit. He never liked to be too near him for too long. “Right. Sparks.”

Cole turned his head, heavy bangs clouding his vision. “This song, it’s yours and hers. Cherishes it like fresh apples in autumn, berries in winter. You made her sing again.”

Cullen raised a hand to stop the ‘kid’ as Varric so lovingly called him from speaking more. “I don’t suppose you talk to Nirah about this?”

"She doesn’t need to. She lets me in, lets me help."

The door screamed opened and Cullen was all too happy to have the distraction. Nirah stumbled out, a bottle of one of the rare alcohols she had discovered on her travels in her grasp. “Cully!”

"Cully?"

Sera was right behind her, mounting the Herald, thighs grasping her waist tight. “Onward, to battle! Or some shite!”

Nirah laughed, louder than she should have, and tumbled forward, Sera crashing down on top of her. A mix of blonde and dark brown hair as Sera snuggled closer. “Oof, Sera! You’re making me spill!”

Cullen crossed his arms, weight shifting as he watched Cole grasp the bottle in his delicate hands. “It smells of poison to the mind.”

Cullen sighed and cocked his head. “It is. Tell me, Inquisitor -“

"Ooo he’s right mad at you! Not my fault you can’t hold your liquor! Hah! Get it! Cause you lost it?"

Nirah squirmed from under Sera. “Iron Bull made us!” Nirah whined out.

"HEY!" Cullen whipped his head towards inside, watching as Bull stepped past his Chargers. "It’s THE Iron Bull, damnit."

Sera and Nirah raised their hands, Sera more so than Nirah. “THE Iron Bull!” they both cried out.

"Cole, give us the drink!" Nirah cried out, reaching towards the bottle.

"Don’t!" Cullen warned, raising his arm at Cole.

"Oi, piss off now! It’s a game!"

"A game?" Cole looked down at the bottle.

"Yes, a game. You take a sip every time you get Iron Bull’s name wro -"

"BOSS! That’s TWO!" A roar of laughter was followed by Iron Bull’s voice.

"Shit," Nirah muttered into the ground. "I keep getting it wrong! Dalish don’t have alcohol like this! If Iron Bull - DAMNIT!"

"That’s three for you!" Iron Bull moved forward towards the door, staring down at Sera blissfully braiding Nirah’s hair. "Drink up!"

"No. No more games. You cannot have the Inquisitor drunk! Cole, dump it." Cullen moved over to Sera and lifted her off of Nirah with ease. Well, as much ease as one could. She slapped at his chest and scoffed at the metal against her bare hand.

"No fair! We’re having fun! Get the stick out your arse!" Sera cried out as she was placed in front of Iron Bull.

Cole raised the bottle to his nose once more, recoiling back and handing it off to Sera. Iron Bull groaned and snatched it from the young assassin’s hand. “She’ll be fine. I didn’t give her anything an Elf can’t handle.”

Cullen squatted to the ground and saw as she gave a quick wink at him. “No, the Commander is right!” she sobbed out, turning over onto her back, covering her eyes with her arms. “Whatever shall I do!”

"Drink!" Sera cried out, a fist raised up. "I guess the Commander can too, bit of a thing party up in here though!"

Nirah cackled and shot up, leaping onto Cullen. He grasped at her waist, thoughts of their previous night replaying in his mind. How many marks had he left again? “His thing is mine.”

"Ew!" Sera screeched as Iron Bull rolled his eye. "You can have it!"

Heat flushed up Cullen’s cheeks. “Wha-what are you - Inquis -“

Nirah grinned, drunken and stupid like, as she reached for the hilt of his sword, yanking the blade out and stumbling back. “In the name of the Inquisition!” she slurred and hoisted the heavy blade up with both hands.

"All a game," Cole whispered as he slid past them and into the tavern to a joyous cheer from the Chargers. "Iron Bull?"

Iron Bull turned, propping his elbow onto Sera’s head in the process. She huffed and smacked at his under arm. “That’s one, kid.”

"Are you inviting me to…play?"

Iron Bull nodded and lifted the bottle over towards him. Nirah dropped the sword as Sera turned to face the spirit with a look of disgust, and grasped onto Cullen’s arms, screeching as she tugged him along. “Freedom!”

"Nirah, by the Maker! My sword!"

She laughed as she rushed up the steps, stumbling and tripping until Cullen grasped at her from behind. She stopped, causing him to be pushed right against her. His hands gripped at her hips and she subtly, much to the displeasure of a lurking Vivienne on the balcony above them, pressed herself closer to him.

"Cullen, are there - is there - who’s in the throne room?" she coughed out, avoiding the gaze that Vivienne shot at her.

Cullen stuttered as her hips and waist moved. “Nirah,” he whispered, shooting a glance all around them. “I fear you should be more worried about who is out here. Watching us.” When she pulled away from him, her chin dipping low, he let his fingers dig into her, holding her there. “There are no visiting dignitaries. Just Varric.”

She raised her hand and pried one of Cullen’s off of her, tugging him along again. She sped past Varric, who lifted his head just in time to see their backs. A grin grew from his lips, leaning his head against a closed fist. “Well, about damned time the two of them were a bit more open with their relationship.”

Vivienne had moved back inside to watch as the pair rushed the throne and towards Nirah’s quarters. “Is it wise, though?” she called down towards the dwarf. “He lost quite the number of people to mages.”

Varric looked up at her as the door was shut, his grin never faltering. “Don’t be so gloomy, Iron Lady. Or shall I start calling you Ice Princess?”

Vivenne smirked as she leaned against the banister. “Oh no, good dwarf. I rather enjoy Iron Lady. Just as much as I enjoy a good, blossoming romance. I merely wish that the young Commander does not get hurt again.”

Upstairs, Nirah pressed the palms of her hands against Cullen’s armor. “Too much,” she whispered out, grasping at the ties. “Always too much!”

Cullen grunted as she pulled one of the straps free, tugging it too far. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, hands trailing up his calves. “Nirah, what has gotten into you?”

"You did." She stared up at him. If his smirk was the death of her, her eyes - so large and bright - would be his end. "Sera overheard my…singing from last night."

Cullen pulled the last strap free, removing his chest piece in the process. “Is that why you were singing it so loud?”

"She didn’t believe I could sing. I told her I needed a bit of well, liquid encouragement, to sing in public. Which led to The Iron Bull encouraging us. Which led to the game. Which led to me singing." She stared up at him, head tilted as she watched him remove his pauldrons, his vambraces. "I sang it so loud so you could rescue me."

"Rescue you?" His boots were the last of his armor. He pressed his fists against his waist, shaking his head at her slumped form. "I didn’t think you could ever need rescuing."

She sat up on her haunches, grasping at his pants. “I may be the Herald of Andraste, Cullen, but I still enjoy a good rescue every now and again.”

He could feel the blood flowing southward. “Would you like me to carry you over my shoulder through the Fallow Mire?”

"I’d like you to remove your boots so I can return the favor from last night."

Cullen swallowed, stepped back from her, and pointed at his boots. “If you’d get the straps.”

She crawled - CRAWLED - to him. Hand over hand, knee after knee, a slight shake to her rear as her hands began undoing the straps that held his shin guards and boots in place. She was removing them now and he went to step back again.

"Let me," she purred, fingers dancing up his legs, their feather light touches barely felt through his trousers. She grasped at the hem and tugged down once, twice. Smirking, she tugged the small clothes, slower and tenderly.

"Nirah, this isn’t really -"

He sucked in a breath as she sat up more, pressing the head of his length into her mouth. He hissed out as he felt the lightest brush of teeth against the soft skin. She pulled back, her tongue trailing a line of saliva. A tickle on the back of his mind.

Not now, he snapped at his mind.

His thoughts were broken as she pressed more of him into her warm, inviting mouth. Her hand - calloused from gripping a staff for years - held the base, gripping and dragging her hand up as she moved her mouth. She pressed her hand back down as she took more of him, the bottom of her fist pressing his darker blond curls back to the skin.

"Nirah," he sighed out, hands nervous to touch her. When his fingers brushed against her hair, she dived deeper, moaning against him. He tossed his head back, one hand - a nervous hand - balled against her hair. His breathing deepened as she moved her mouth up and down. Her tongue - curse her wicked tongue! - pressed against the bottom of his length.

She pulled away completely, lifting his cock while stroking him. A strand of spit slid from her lips to her chin. What was she doing, he thought.

She bent closer to him, her tongue stroking against his sensitive sacs. He groaned and shuttered, fingers spreading against her scalp and gripping her hair tight now. “Nirah!”

Her mouth gave one a gentle suckle and he bucked at the feeling. She pulled away, eyes wide in fear. “I’m so sorry!” she whispered, shaking her head.

His hand was still gripping her hair, holding it tight. Ragged breaths escaped his throat as he bent forward, pulling himself out of her grip. “Maker, Nirah. How - where?” He sighed and opened his eyes, seeing his grip and releasing it.

"It was - " She blushed, more and more. "It was good?"

Cullen collapsed to his knees, cupping her face. “Amazing,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.

"But you didn’t -"

And there was his smirk. Sweat dripped from his forehead down his temple. “I was feeling weak, is all.”

Without another word, Nirah bolted into action. She tore open the doors to her balcony, a blast of cool wintry air filling her room. Cullen snorted at her as she rushed over to the bed, yanking the massive amounts of blankets from its place. “In,” she demanded, gesturing towards the bed.

"Nirah," he purred out, reaching towards her with one hand. "Come here and calm down."

Her breath was caught in her throat. “You didn’t meet up with Cassandra. Oh Creators, it’s my fault! Are you in pain?”

"Nirah!"

She snapped to attention, shaking the thoughts from her mind. She was always there for him, ready to spring into action at the first sign of him faltering. She learned what he liked when he began the quivers of withdrawal. Fresh air was a must - the colder, the better. No blankets, only the linen sheets would be sufficient to keep the chill off. Him in her arms - her small arms that barely could wrap around his shoulders - as she stroked the side of his face, speaking to him in a hushed voice.

He stood, freeing himself of his pants and small clothes. “It was just a passing. I’m alright.”

Sitting on the bed, he opened his arms and Nirah fell into his grasp, clutching onto the last piece of clothing he wore - his tunic. “I shouldn’t have -“

"Will you keep going?"

She looked up at him, watching him smile. He moved her one hand down - his hardness still very much there. “Are you sure?” she whispered, the playful Nirah replaced.

He grinned and released her completely. “Not if you’re not.” He scooted back, adjusting the pillows so he could lean against the headboard. He had the perfect view of her. “And not if you’re going to remained clothed.”

The corner of her mouth rose up as she shimmied her boots off and her pants. No small clothes - a wicked grin crossing Cullen’s normal playful one. She lowered her gaze and began stroking his length a few times. He leaned back and sighed - the cool breeze helped.

"I liked when you grabbed my hair," she whispered painfully shy. Nirah was not shy when it came to their antics. He stroked the side of her face, his thumb pressed just against the bottom of her ear. "And held your hand there."

Cullen nodded once. “I was worried you’d hate it.”

She pulled away from him, lifting her shirt off and revealing herself, completely naked to him. Without another word, she began to lick the head again, placing it in her mouth. The heat of her mouth mixed with the cold air was thrilling to him. His hand bolted for her hair, gripping it tight.

"Ah, the tongue is - ah! Nice!"

Up and down - this was far more comfortable, far less straining on him. The tickle was gone and replaced with the growing need to feel all of her. He felt the back of her throat and his hips instinctively bucked, his grip loosening as she slid back.

"Maker, I’m so -"

Again he felt the back of her throat, but this time she was prepared for when his hips moved up. He tossed his head back, all but slamming it against the headboard as she pulled away again.

More.

He pulled her head up as gently as he could and dragged her up his body. He pressed his lips against hers, the salty taste mixed with her saliva drove him to the edge. He rolled her onto her back, her breath quick as she was jostled from her task.

He tore off his shirt, stuck on one arm until she reached up and yanked it free. He gave her a smirk in response and slid down between her legs.

"Cullen, no I wanted -"

"I need to calm down or else I’ll erupt."

She drew in her lips to stop the giant smile. He spread her legs and let his tongue go to work against her. Already she was wet before he even hit the bundle of nerves. He pulled back, her one hand covering her face as the other rolled a nipple between her finger and thumb.

He moved up her body, trailing kisses behind until he reached her hardened nipple. Cullen claimed it for himself sucking and striking the very tip of his tongue against it. Her back arched, forcing more of her breast into his mouth. He began to slide a finger in her with one hand, the other pawing at her free breast.

"Cullen, take me, please."

He pulled away from her, his ragged breath causing her nipple to stiffen even more. He lifted her legs, pressing them and bending them at the knees. He reached up to her face, grasping the hand that hid her beautiful scarlet cheeks. He released it only to stroke her cheek once, her eyes locked with his.

"I love you," he whispered, his thumb trailing to her lips.

Her hand that covered her face reached up, grasping against his shoulder as he slid into her. Soft, yet eager. Testing the waters, but never stopping. She quaked under him feeling his length fill her. Her muscle spasms tightened the hold on him and Cullen felt pure electricity race up his spine as he slid out of her.

Her mouth widened to an ‘o’ shape as she whispered into the air, “I love you,” sucking in a breath as he repeated the process. He was gripping her hips tight now, feeling ready to explode. He couldn’t! He had barely began!

Focus, he thought, his eyes darting south to see the love marks he had made. They were faded, barely even bruises. He counted them in his mind. Four, six. Seven. Nine.

Her moans grew and he went faster. Her hand bolted to his chest, claws scratching against his skin. She pulled the hand away, shocked at what she had done. Cullen never stopped though. That feeling pressed him on.

He leaned forward, covering her body with his, sweat droplets falling onto her. She hooked her arms around his neck, shuddering into him as her legs began to coil. She needed him, all of him.

He grunted and pulled back, lifting her frame with ease. She clung to him tighter and he loved it. He loved it - such a tiny person compared to him and he loved her and everything she did to him. He pressed his forehead to hers, bucking up and her mouth fell open as he slid deeper into her.

He was holding her arse again, pressing her down and lifting her up. The scent of dinner rolled into the room - fresh baked sweet rolls, Nirah’s favorite Ferelden treat. She grasped onto his shoulders, pushing away from him, her head tossed back in pure bliss.

Her moans were quiet, she fought with all of her strength not to belt out cries of pleasure. Cullen was near his breaking point. Like a tankard of ale filled far too much, he was ready to spill over. He thought about how he wished for her to cry out, screech in joy as he made her orgasm over and over.

He settled for her wisps of “Cullen!” as she drew closer. Her arched back drew up and she clung tight to him, her muscles quaking as the earth would have. “Cullen!”

The cry was far louder. He wanted more. He pressed his lips against her neck, sucking and nipping and whispering, “More, more.”

"Cullen!"

"Louder, Nirah!"

"Cullen! Cullen! Garas, ma sa’lath!"

"Nirah! I -"

He couldn’t hold it. He erupted like a storm over the coast of the Waking Sea. His hands pressed her hips down as she began to rock, riding the waves of pleasure. Her body - chest, arms, hands, thighs - shuddered as his thrusts softened.

He collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He was covered - drenched, really - in both of their sweat.

It wasn’t until far later, when dinner was prepared and served, did either of them even think of stepping foot outside of her quarters. They sat next to each other, composed and quiet. “Pass the rolls?” she would ask and he would comply.

Sera was lounged against the table, covering her exposed ear whenever anyone would talk or scrape the bench against the floor. THE Iron Bull was smirking at Cole as he lifted a glass of water to him, head tilted as he sniffed it.

It wasn’t until Varric, sweet and loving Varric, had asked a simple question towards their elf comrades. “Could one of you, well, maybe not Sera, tell me what ‘Garas ma sa’lath’ means exactly?”

Nirah sputtered out her bread, crumbs flying from her mouth and onto the plate as Cullen practically froze in place. She reached for a glass, chugging the cool water down as if it were her last drink.

Dorian let out a disgusted noise at her, commenting that their Inquisitor should learn to chew properly. Vivienne let a small smile dance across her lips as she handed Cullen a napkin to help her. Solas gripped his utensil, stabbing the fork into the stew.

Nirah apologized profusely, thanking the dark skinned woman for her help and shooting a death glare at the dwarf.

Cullen leaned close to her, whispering only so she could hear as Iron Bull began laughing at Cole sniffing another drink, and another, causing all of their comrades to question what it was he was doing. “Tomorrow, I want to take you somewhere far more private.”


End file.
